


The A Team

by gnashing_teeth



Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 19:41:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30026868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gnashing_teeth/pseuds/gnashing_teeth
Summary: You’re a baker who becomes fascinated with a winged mutant that dwells around your town. His aloof nature and shady hangout spots make him difficult to befriend, but one day you find yourself in a situation with him that you never dreamed of.
Relationships: Warren Worthington III & Reader, Warren Worthington III/Reader, Warren Worthington III/You
Kudos: 1





	The A Team

**Author's Note:**

> Prologue.

In his bleary vision the shadows of the building appeared like black sentinels peering down to indulge in his suffering.

To watch his death. 

There was nothing he could do as the cold had numbed his body long ago, what little strength he had left was expended in the crawl towards the wall so he could slump against it. He watched, only capable of moving his eyes now, as the vast flurries of white descended into the darkness of this alley; some of it piling into his lap. By morning he would be covered; a secret in the snow. 

It was always the same. 

Betrayal. Abandonment. 

This time he didn’t try to escape. He knew with every feather dropped, every gash stitched, every bruise healed, and every battered breath that this would be his end. When he could no longer fly the days were numbered. When he was cast out from his employer, the death date was set on his grave. As if he could afford that, as if anyone would be looking for him. 

He sucks in a seething breath, trying to will his body to move. At least to sit up a little straighter than the frost compounding around him. Budging barely an inch, his face scrunches in a wince as he abandons the idea. Frozen completely to his core, he aches in his joints and wonders if his bones could shatter because they feel like they could in this moment. When did he become so stiff? He used to be unusually flexible, capable of bending his wings in weird angles to conceal them and squeeze into unlikely places; that was lifetimes ago though.

He chokes back a sob. 

His wings used to be so warm. Even when they were finally broken, he could rely on them for the warmth. They were useless now, crumpled, brittle, and unmoving on his back; body spending what little energy it had left in attempting to heat him and keep him alive. Another shivering sigh leaks through his permanently parted lips. His wings were comfort too; now that he was here, at death’s door in the alleyway, he could admit it. With no one to hold him, the sensation of his wings wrapped tight around him was like another pair of arms; if he could cry, he would. The snow would be his only blanket tonight. 

Dying should be simple, right? To take your final breath and pass through the other side. He never made anything easy though. His body never did either, but maybe this once it could be different. He finally let’s his eyes close and he prays; looking like an angel never gave him a reason to believe in God, but there had to be some sort of mercy in this life, right? Perhaps there was a deity out there besides the brooding sentinels over him--watching him struggle--watching his tormented death. An ounce of pity could be spared, couldn’t it? Just this once, he hoped he could get what he wanted. 

It was clear in his mind, he saw the sun-bathed fields of wheat in a perfect gold. Felt the radiant warmth of its rays, impossible to escape in the vast expanse of the grass. It was a different quiet than the frigid silence of the frozen wasteland he was accustomed to. This was jovial and friendly; welcoming you to pause in its stillness. To recharge or to connect, it was your choice--a new life. 

If only. 

The vision breaks, hope draining from behind his eyelids as the cold and gray hues of his surroundings return with a blink, swirling into a pool of muted colors that descended to darkness. He feels a pull down into the inky stream at first attempting to latch himself desperately onto a word, a thought, a memory--anything to stop the current dragging him farther down the chasm. He vainly grasps at the smoke of his consciousness, each yank wittles his stubborn will until he finally submits. Allowing the black rivers to whirlpool and carry him deeper into still depths of sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I am finally posting the first chapter to this (was four, now five including this prologue) chapter fic for Warren. I admit it's going to be just a _bit_ tropey (not that there is anything wrong with that) as this has been an idea that's been in my mind for quite a few years now (maybe 5? Probably 5). It was originally going to be a oneshot inspired by the song "The A Team" by Ed Sheeran, but gosh... I couldn't stop writing haha.
> 
> The only thing you need to know is I use Ben Hardy as a face claim to Warren, but this is set as a Modern AU, so he is gonna look a little different. He will also act a little different because I like to blend comic-verse and movie-verse for Warren (but this one admittedly is closer to movie-verse). So try to keep an open-mind about his behavior and looks! (though I suppose it doesn't matter since you can imagine him how you want haha) 
> 
> Lastly, I don't really have a set publishing schedule, I want it to be every Friday/Saturday, for the next couple weeks, but I'm still working on a lot of the chapters so it could be every other Friday/Saturday. I do update my carrd pretty regularly to include where I'm at, so maybe take a gander at it when you're curious.
> 
> [my carrd](https://gnashingteeth.carrd.co/)


End file.
